


Warm and Cozy

by Captain_Lilja



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), First Kiss, Winter is better with fluffy feels, having actual conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27719648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Lilja/pseuds/Captain_Lilja
Summary: Crowley doesn't like winter or Christmas. But after the world didn't end and he and Aziraphale are on their own side, he's starting to think winter might not be so bad after all. It just takes some talking, a new jacket, a questionably decorated Christmas tree, and a strategically placed sprig of mistletoe to make it happen.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65





	Warm and Cozy

**Author's Note:**

> So... I wrote this last year and never posted it. By that point, Christmas had come and gone so I've been sitting on this until the time was right again. It's my first fic posted in this fandom and I'm pretty excited for it. I just want to do these wonderful characters justice and give them some happiness.

Crowley hated the cold. He wasn’t made for it. He dreaded the entry into winter every year. Demons were used to the baking heat of Hell and his reptilian nature did not approve of shorter days and dropping temperatures. He’d hibernated through his share of December and Januarys throughout history. It was also the reason he’d never bothered to venture much further north than Scotland, especially in winter. 

Winter also brought another thing that Crowley didn’t particularly enjoy--Christmas. He found the human celebration baffling and somewhat annoying. The crass commercialization he could get behind (and may have contributed to) but that was about it. He was a Demon. Peace on Earth and Goodwill to Men were rather contrary to what a Demon was supposed to stand for.

So for centuries, he’d endured the coming cold and the coming holiday with equal disdain. In more recent times, the first sighting of Christmas trees and lights and decorations was enough to make him want to curl up in bed and sleep until the spring thaw.

Aziraphale had picked up on this pattern some time along the way. He’d learned quickly not to invite Crowley to any kind of Christmas activity and that the Demon was far less sociable as winter rolled around. Granted, those were the days they weren’t seeing that much of each other. A conversation here, a lunch or dinner there, but keeping their arrangement in the shadows as much as they could.

With the arrival of the Anti-Christ and their years together at the Dowling Estate, they’d spent more time together than ever before. During those coldest months, Aziraphale, who had less to do in the gardens, had taken it upon himself to bundle up Warlock and tramp through the occasional snowfalls. Crowley, wrapped in a blanket, watched from the window as they made snow angels and Warlock threw snowballs at whatever he felt like (one or two times that was Aziraphale and _Nanny_ put a quick stop to that). 

Crowley grumbled and sneered at the Christmas decor that appeared in the house each December and Aziraphale tolerated his mood with surprising patience. Aziraphale was quite taken with the angel decoration on top of the biggest tree, looking forward to its appearance each year. Crowley had teased him for it, but nothing seemed to dim Aziraphale’s delight for the holiday.

[“Jesus would hate the commercialization of Christmas presents!” Crowley had argued one night, wrapped in every blanket he could find, nestled next to the fire, with a partially empty bottle of whiskey nearby. 

“I’m aware.” Aziraphale had replied calmly, sitting primly on the couch, cocoa in hand. “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“Celebration and family. It’s about love and reconnecting and being joyful. It’s lovely.”

“It’s hideous.”

Aziraphale sighed patiently. “Well, I suppose you would see it that way.”

Crowley gave a soft hiss and burrowed further into the blankets. “Nothing good happens in the winter.

“You can be a Scrooge all you want, but I enjoy it. You won’t change my mind.”

“Wouldn’t dream of trying, angel.”]

And that was the thing. As different as their opinions were, they never tried to convince the other of their viewpoint. They simply tolerated it and kept going.

Then it all changed. The world hadn’t ended and was also still going. In the months that followed, Crowley found himself spending almost all his time with Aziraphale. There was no more hiding, no more sneaking around and pretending they weren’t basically inseparable.

As fall began to fade and the first hints of winter crept into the city, Crowley found himself with a dilemma. He didn’t want to be away from Aziraphale, but the premise of a warm bed for the winter was also tempting. 

It was an early December afternoon that he found himself bundled under several blankets on Aziraphale’s couch at the back of the bookshop. The Angel was puttering around, chatting with a browsing customer (who seemed to have no intention of buying so Aziraphale was happy to have them) and was his usual chipper self. Crowley almost felt guilty for his bad mood. He knew Aziraphale was fond of Christmas and the winter and he hated to ruin what had been a couple nice months together.

Sunlight was starting to fade outside the dusty windows when Aziraphale wandered into the back, grin fading as soon as he saw Crowley. “That time of year again, isn’t it?”

Crowley grunted in response. 

Aziraphale sat on the nearby chair and sighed lightly. His expression was troubled. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you have a history of disappearing during these months… are you planning on sleeping for a while again?”

“I hadn’t decided.”

“I see.” Aziraphale looked away.

Crowley frowned. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I’d prefer it.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

Aziraphale’s smile returned and he beamed at Crowley. “Well, we’ll do our best to keep you warm and cozy, yes?”

“Cozy?” Crowley arched an eyebrow. “Not really something I’ve had much experience with.”

“Then we’ll make that our goal. A cozy winter together.”

There was something so innocent about how proudly the Angel stated that. Crowley felt an unusual heat in his stomach at that smile and the idea of Aziraphale wanting to spend the winter together. Together was new and together was very welcome. 

“Sounds lovely.” Crowley stated after a moment, careful to keep sarcasm out of his voice. Sarcasm was one of his natural states and he really wanted to be honest with the Angel. 

“I’m going to close up the shop. What would you like for dinner?” Aziraphale asked.

“How about that Thai place? It’s close. Nice and warm in there.”

“Wonderful idea. Shall we?”

Crowley untangled himself from the blankets, somewhat unwillingly, and stood. He stretched a little, noticing how Aziraphale’s eyes grazed over his stomach as his shirt lifted up just a little. The Angel seemed to catch himself immediately and looked away. 

“Where’s your coat?” Aziraphale asked, glancing toward the empty coat rack.

“Don’t have one.” Crowley shrugged.

“No wonder you’re cold. That wouldn’t do. We’re not going anywhere until you put a coat on.”

“But it ruins the outfit.”

“Don’t be such a child.”

“M'not.”

Aziraphale fixed him a look and miracled a black jacket into his hand. “Wear it.”

“Fine.” Crowley snatched it from his hand and examined it. It was a bomber style jacket with soft fur lining and a leather exterior. “This is almost fashionable, angel. I’m impressed.”

“I saw someone wearing something similar and thought it would look good on you.”

That was worthy of an eyebrow raise but Crowley said nothing as he slipped the jacket on. It was soft and warm and he found he liked it a great deal. “Well, does it live up to your expectations?” 

Aziraphale was blushing faintly. “Very handsome.” He nodded. “Cozy?”

“I guess. Let’s go.”

Crowley led the way to the doors, holding it open for Aziraphale to exit. Once the door was shut and the Angel had locked up, Crowley shoved his hands in the pockets of the jacket. He wouldn’t say it outloud, but the jacket was quite comfortable and surprisingly warm as they made their way down the street. He also was surprised to notice just how many times he saw Aziraphale glancing over at him and then quickly looking away as if he didn’t want to get caught staring. He supposed the Angel had been thinking about him in the jacket for longer than he wanted to admit.

The walk to the restaurant was quiet but comfortable. Crowley held the door for Aziraphale as they entered and were greeted by one of the employees who recognized them immediately. They were guided toward their usual booth, in the back nearer the kitchen, and settled in across from each other. Crowley casually shrugged the jacket off and slouched back into his seat. He watched Aziraphale study the menu intently, as if he didn’t have it memorized after their many visits. The Angel seemed almost fidgety, which was not normal.

Even after they’d ordered--their usuals--Aziraphale continued to shift and glance around, looking somewhat uneased. Not only was this out of character for the Angel, it was much more fitting to Crowley’s own nervous energy. Strangely, he felt completely calm even though he was now worried about his companion.

“Everything okay, angel?” He asked finally, unable to hold it in.

Aziraphale visibly forced himself to stillness and looked over at Crowley. “What makes you ask that?”

“You’re being twitchy. I know your nervous ticks and you’re displaying them all right now. What’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m sorry for the times I did, you know.” Aziraphale sighed, looking a little deflated. “I said some awful things to you. I never should have said I didn’t like you or that we weren’t friends. I was just… scared. I hope you forgive me.”

“Always. You know that. I don’t blame you.” Crowley replied. “Things have changed, right?”

“Very much and that’s what worries me.”

“Oh?” Panic crept into Crowley’s stomach. 

“I hope I wasn’t being too… presumptuous with the jacket.”

“The jacket’s lovely. Making me do something sensible is hardly presumptuous.”

“You asked me if I wanted you to stay. I didn’t ask if you wanted to.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” Crowley frowned, not understanding where any of this had come from. “Aziraphale, what has you worried? I’m not following.”

“So much has changed and I’m grateful for it. I am so relieved to finally feel free. I just worry about changing things too quickly. I don’t want to push.” Aziraphale sighed. “I don’t want to be the one going too fast.”

“Ah.”

“Sorry.”

Crowley hated seeing the Angel looking rather miserable. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s a whole new world. We have time to figure things out. As long as we’re moving forward, we can go as slow as we need to. Okay?”

Aziraphale nodded, some of his tension fading. “What do you want, Crowley?”

“I think you’ve known that for a long time. For now, though, I want to spend the winter warm and cozy with you.”

“That sounds delightful.”

“Feel better?”

“Much. I just don’t want to make a mess of this.”

“Angel, I’ve stuck around this long. I’m not going anywhere.”

Aziraphale relaxed considerably. “Nor am I.”

“Good. Glad we sorted that.” 

They fell back into their comfortable silence as they waited for their food. Once it arrived, Aziraphale dived in with his usual enthusiasm. Crowley mostly pushed noodles around his plate. He ate a few bites but knew it was one of Aziraphale favorites and would be happy to take leftovers home.

Conversation was minimal, but not awkward. Aziraphale chatted about a few new books he had found while Crowley complained about his plants acting up (he blamed Aziraphale for this. He was sure the Angel was nice to them when he was at Crowely’s flat). When they were done, Crowley swept up the bill before Aziraphale could protest and handed the Angel the takeout box with his meal.

“Really, Crowley, you should let me pay now and then.” Aziraphale stated as they made their way toward the door.

“It’s my pleasure. Not like money is the issue.” He tucked back into the warm jacket, feeling surprisingly content.

“I realize that. You’re just always looking after me. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage.”

“That never crossed my mind, angel.” Crowley opened the door and motioned him ahead. He didn’t add the part that there were situations where he had daydreamed about one of them taking advantage of the other in a very different context. 

Aziraphale smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“All of it. Everything I never thanked you for over the millennia.”

“This planet would be boring without you getting into trouble or insisting we try some new restaurant. It’s been purely selfish, I assure you.”

“I see.” Aziraphale chuckled. “Glad to know I amuse you.” 

Much to Crowley’s surprise, Aziraphale tucked his arm around the Demon’s, moving close. Crowley tried not to tense up but it was something new and unexpected. They rarely touched and this was such a casual gesture that Crowley had to keep from tripping over his own feet as his brain shorted.

“Would you rather I didn’t?” Aziraphale asked, starting to pull away almost immediately.

“No. It’s fine.” Crowley replied quickly. “You just caught me off guard. Stay.”

The Angel moved back closer, body pressed to Crowley’s arm. “Shall we stroll?”

“Lead on.”

They walked a couple blocks, tucked together like it was the most natural thing in the world to be doing. There was a part of Crowley that considered untucking his hand from his jacket to slip it into Aziraphale’s, but he was a little worried that might be too much. The Angel seemed to be having a hard enough time with this shift in their relationship and Crowley wasn’t going to do anything to risk it. They’d been through enough. He could be patient.

Reaching a corner, Crowley started to make the turn back toward the bookshop only to realize Aziraphale had stopped and was staring in the other direction.

“What is it?” He asked, gaze darting around to see if something was wrong.

“I was thinking that the lights and decorations would be up in the store windows. It’s always lovely.” Aziraphale glanced at him. “But I know you’re not keen on Christmas.”

“If you want to go look at them, we can.”

“Are you sure?”

“Let’s go. Maybe it’s time to rethink some of my attitudes for the winter.”

The Angel beamed at him and guided him toward the crosswalk in the other direction. “Warm enough?”

“Feeling pretty cozy. The jacket’s nice.”

“I’m glad.”

Walking along the street, Crowley began to notice more and more decorations and strings of light. He supposed there had been others, but he’d been so focused on Aziraphale that he hadn’t noticed. As they got into the bigger shops, he was no longer walking side-by-side with the Angel, but being pulled along as Aziraphale hurried excitedly from display to display.

“It’s lovely.” Aziraphale gushed as he gazed up at the large tree and presents decorating one window. 

Crowley made a sound of agreement. However, he wasn’t really looking at the display. He was distracted by the way the lights haloed around Aziraphale’s hair and the glimmer in his eyes. There was pure joy reflected on his face and he was beautiful at that moment. It was as close to angelic as he could remember seeing since that day on the wall. It nearly took his breath away. If he’d had any doubts about his love for the Angel, they disappeared instantly.

“Can we go in?” Aziraphale asked eagerly.

“We can go wherever you want.”

The Angel smiled brightly and retucked his arm around Crowley’s. He guided them toward the door and into the shop. A wave of spicy and piney smells met them. Crowley wouldn’t say it out loud but it was a pleasant smell, something reminiscent of woods in the winter and food being baked. He wondered if it was because Aziraphale had a slightly cinnamon-y tinge in his scent that he liked that spice so much.

Crowley’s internal ponderings were cut short as the Angel eagerly guided him toward faux trees decked out in all kinds of ornaments, lights, and every other tacky thing humanity could imagine. He briefly wondered if he could convince Aziraphale it had been his doing but then decided that referring to himself as tacky was probably not a good idea and that the Angel loved this too much to appreciate the remark.

At some point in the following fifteen minutes of wandering through glitter and tinsel forests and increasingly ridiculous stacks of merchandise in the shape of trees, Crowley suddenly realized Aziraphale was not at his side anymore. He, somehow, managed to keep from panicking and concentrated just enough to feel for the Angel. From there it was easy enough to travel the short distance to find Aziraphale gazing up at a white tree with delicate lights and tasteful snowflake decorations. Any annoyance Crowley might have had about the Angel disappearing off like that vanished at the look on Aziraphale’s face. He glowed in the soft light, gazing up with a reverence one might expect from something far more spiritual than a department store Christmas tree.

Aziraphale noticed his arrival and smiled softly. “Wonderful, isn’t it?”

“If you go for that sort of thing.” Crowley eyed the tree. It wasn’t awful, it really wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to say that. “S’better than some of them.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

And Crowley couldn’t help but see the flash of disappointment cross the Angel’s face. It was quickly replaced by a smile that wasn’t quite as bright as before. But the damage was done and Crowley felt more than a little sick.

“Angel…”

“You’ve been patient, dear. We should be heading back.”

With that, Aziraphale motioned toward the doors and began to move in that direction. He didn’t take Crowley’s arm on the way back to the bookshop and remained silent. Crowley spent the awkward walk trying to think of anything to say or do to redeem the evening. It had been going so well and he had no one to blame but himself for the change in mood. 

“Would you like to come in for a drink? I have a lovely red.” Aziraphale looked over at him as they neared the bookshop.

“Actually, I think I’ll pass tonight. I’ve got a couple things I have to do.” That wasn’t strictly a lie, but Crowley felt bad about it anyway.

“Alright then. Tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there.” Crowley assured. “Night, angel.” He gave a short wave and headed for the Bentley. He didn’t glance back because he knew he’d disappointed Aziraphale and he was better off not seeing that wounded expression. 

Hopping in his car, he had a plan. He was going to fix this and they were going to have a nice, cozy winter together. Someone be damned, he was going to make this right.

__

Crowley was back at the bookshop early the next morning. He hadn’t slept much at all the night before and had even considered not waiting until morning but just going back to the bookshop. It’s not like Aziraphale would be asleep. However, not wanting to seem too eager (and risk going too fast) he waited until the sun was up and he’d had a cup of coffee before speeding back to Soho.

He carried a small package in his hand, but the size hid just how important it was to what was going to happen next. He was nervous, uncertain, but determined that he was going to be brave and see this through.

The door to the bookshop opened like always for him even though the closed sign was obvious. He secretly hoped Aziraphale had no plans for opening the shop today.  
The Angel in question was standing near the rotunda of the shop and greeted him with a smile like nothing was wrong.

“Good morning. You’re up and about early.” Aziraphale remarked. “Wearing the jacket, I’m happy to see.”

“I like it.” Crowley admitted. “Warm.” He moved across the shop, pressing the wrapped box he carried into Aziraphale’s hands as he went. “Got you something.” He kept moving, slipping off the jacket and hanging it on the coat rack while specifically not looking at the Angel.

“You don’t have to do that, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s tone was gentle, sincere.

“Do what?”

“Give me things. Buy dinner. You don’t have to do those things.”

“I know.” Crowley finally turned around and leaned on the edge of a table. “I do it ‘cause I want to. Is that okay?”

Aziraphale looked flustered for a moment before he nodded. “May I open it?”

“Yeah.” 

As Aziraphale carefully peeled the wrapping off (the lady at the store had done a very nice job of it), Crowley slid his sunglasses off and put them in a pocket. If he was going to try to be honest here, he preferred the Angel being able to see his eyes. He also liked watching Aziraphale unencumbered. He could see the curiosity and the eagerness despite how carefully the box was unwrapped and then opened. When the last layer of tissue paper was lifted to reveal the gift, Crowley heard a soft gasp.

“Crowley, it’s beautiful.” Aziraphale carefully lifted the item from the box and turned it over in his hands.

It was beautiful. Crowley had thought so. The delicate glass angel was intended for the top of a Christmas tree. The white robes flared just so to catch the light and the wings were extraordinary pieces of glass that were almost transparent save the silver highlights that shimmered. Its halo was a band of silver and in its cupped hands was a silver star. It didn’t have features but it somehow seemed kind.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale looked somewhere between baffled and in awe. “I don’t understand… it’s beautiful, but you don’t even like Christmas…”

“I’m sorry for my behavior yesterday. I didn’t mean to ruin your happiness. I’ve never had a reason to want to like Christmas. Like you said, it’s a time for peace and family and love. Those aren’t in a Demon’s nature.”

“You aren’t like most Demons.”

Crowley nodded slowly. “I’ve never wanted to try to like it. But this year is different. Like you said, a warm, cozy winter together. Maybe together is a good reason to try to change my mind. I won’t know ‘til I give it a try, right? I thought we can do some of those human traditions you like so much. Put up a tree. Decorate. Maybe it’s not as bad as I make it seem…” He’d been brave but was starting to lose his nerve with the way Aziraphale was gazing at him, all soft and fond.

“I think that sounds wonderful. Thank you.” He looked down at the glass angel in his hands. “This will have a place of honor on the top of our tree.”

“We need a tree.”

“We do. Shall we go do it the human way? Go to the lot and bring one home?”

Crowley considered it. “I’ll do a lot of things for you, angel, but I am not putting a sticky tree in the Bentley.”

“I’d much rather have a real one than one of those plastic ones… perhaps we can find a place that will deliver the tree.”

“Or… bear with me… we miracle the tree and then only have to shop for decorations.”

Aziraphale made a thoughtful noise. “Can we still go to the tree lot? Find the perfect inspiration?”

“If we’re going to go to that much work, shouldn’t we just miracle that one here?”

“Crowley, we are not stealing a Christmas tree!”

“I wasn’t suggesting we should.” He rather had been but that was in his nature. “Leave the money in the cashbox and bring the tree home the easy way.” 

“Well… I guess that does make the most sense. Still not exactly the human way.”

“Angel, hard as we might try, we’re not human. Why go through fuss when we don’t have to? We can do the rest as human as you want. I just won’t have tree needles in my car. It’s been through enough this year. Those bloody things never come out of the carpet.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”

“I’m insulted you’d ask.” Crowley grumbled. The answer was obviously ‘yes.’

“Alright then. I’ve got a few things to finish here. We’ll need to find a spot for the tree as well. Perhaps we could go a little before lunch? Pick out a tree and then eat before we go shopping for decorations?” 

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Make yourself at home, dear. Let me finish this and we’ll decide where to put a tree.” With that, Aziraphale vanished down the aisle of books. 

Crowley flopped onto the couch and considered the Angel’s words. He did spend a lot of time in the shop. He had inadvertently called it ‘home’ and neither had batted an eye. If Aziraphale was serious about this ‘warm, cozy winter together’ than it seemed he’d be spending even more time here than he was, which was a tough thing to do considering most of his days were already with the Angel now. Deciding this was the day to be brave, he leaned from the couch in the general direction Aziraphale had gone.

“Hey, angel?!” He called out.

“Yes?” The voice was muffled by the stack of books but still clear.

“Why do you have a bed?”

There was a moment of quiet before Aziraphale poked his head around a shelf to eye Crowley. “Why do you ask?”

“You don’t sleep. So why keep a big bed that you don’t use in there? I figured you’d want the space for more books.” 

Crowley had been in the bedroom once or twice to retrieve something for Aziraphale. Most of the space was, unsurprisingly, filled with stacks of books but there were two wardrobes and a large, plush bed with a spotless gold duvet.

“I suppose it’s mostly for show. To at least pretend I’m someone that sleeps. That’s what a human would expect to find in a bedroom. Keeping up appearances and all that.” Aziraphale replied brightly and completely unconvincingly.

“You have many humans wandering into your bedroom?”

“Well, no. Really, Crowley, why are you bringing it up now?”

“Can I sleep in it? The bed, specifically. Not just the bedroom in general.”

Aziraphale blinked at him. “Now?”

“No.” Crowley gave him a look. “At night. You don’t sleep. I do. I’m not asking for it all the time. Just here and there when I don’t feel like going home over the winter. Can I stay here rather than driving home in the cold?”

“Oh, of course. That makes sense, doesn’t it? I should have offered sooner. You’re welcome to stay whenever you want. We can add that to our shopping list. Get you some blankets and sheets that you prefer. I’m sure you won’t approve of mine.”

“Tartan?”

“Perhaps.”

Crowley wrinkled his nose. “There’s more to patterns than tartan, angel.”

“But I like it!”

“I know. I’m not saying you can’t. It’s just not my thing.”

“I understand.” Aziraphale nodded, smiling that fond smile again. “Now, let me finish what I’m doing so we can get onto other things.” He turned and vanished off into the stacks once more.

Crowley gazed at the spot he’d been before flopping back on the couch and specifically not thinking about how he’d just invited himself into the Angel’s bedroom. The pretense was innocent enough and he didn’t want to dwell on how much he wanted it to be anything but innocent.

“Don’t mess this up.” He scolded himself quietly. “Just go slow…” 

Deciding to distract himself from the little voices telling him to go throw himself in Aziraphale’s bed, Crowley picked up the book nearest to him. He found it to be an art book, which suited him just fine--not many words and something to pass the time.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, idly flipping through the book before the Angel reappeared.

“What caught your interest?” Aziraphale asked curiously, peering at the book. “Art?”

“You know what bothers me about a lot of the Renaissance painters?” Crowley questioned back.

“What?”

“They make everything so clean. Nothing in those times was ever so neat and tidy. They had no idea what it was like to live in a time before indoor plumbing…”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” Aziraphale gazed at the image that was open. “Art isn’t always honest. It is about beauty, not always truth. It’s how humans want to see the past. We’re all guilty of overlooking the bad from time to time in favor of more pleasant memories.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Crowley nodded. “Everyone likes a bit of romanticizing about their past, I guess.” He turned the page and frowned. “No one got close to drawing Adam and Eve right…”

“Well, that’s a very different matter.”

“A lot of the artists were pricks. That counts for some of it.”

Aziraphale actually smiled at that. “Know that firsthand, do you?”

Crowley shrugged. “Hung around a few in the 15th century. It was a big step up from the 14th. Nothing good happened in the 14th century.”

“You spent some time with da Vinci, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. He was one of the decent ones. Was sent to tempt him.”

“Did you?”

“No.” Crowley shook his head as he turned a few more pages. “Couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Aziraphale, perhaps sensing that this was a delicate subject, didn’t press. As hard as they both tried to keep their distance from humans, every now and then one got through the cracks. It wasn’t something they talked about and Crowley didn’t really feel like starting now.

Closing the book and setting it to the side, Crowley turned his attention to the Angel. There would be a time they’d have to face some of their (metaphorical) demons from the past but this wasn’t the time for it.

“So… where do you want to put the tree?” He asked, gesturing around the bookshop.

“Well, it should be somewhere we can see from back here. That’s the point--to be able to enjoy it while we’re relaxing…” Aziraphale glanced around. 

Crowley contemplated his view from where he lounged on the couch. “What about there?” He pointed to a nook that wasn’t as full as some of the others. It would keep the tree hidden from most customer views as well--he liked the idea of it being just for them.

Aziraphale moved in the direction indicated and stood in the nook. “Here?”

“Yeah, great view.”

The Angel flushed slightly and looked away. “We’ll need to move a few of these books to give us space to decorate.”

“And ruin your meticulous organization?”

“No need to be mean.”

“Joking, angel. Where do you want them?”

“No miracles. That never works well on books.” Aziraphale stated firmly. “Let’s put them over there.” He nodded to a nearby wall already covered in stacks of books as he picked up a pile that looked like it should be awfully heavy but he carried it with ease.

Crowley stood and wandered over. He picked up a much smaller stack and followed Aziraphale’s lead. It didn’t take them long, especially with the Angel doing the bulk of the work, to clear a larger area.

“There.” Aziraphale nodded with satisfaction. “That’ll be perfect. Now we just need the perfect tree.”

“Shall we go find it?”

“Yes, let’s.”

Crowley hid a smile as he retrieved his jacket and slipped it on. Aziraphale glowed with eagerness, almost childlike in his enthusiasm. Crowley loved him all the more for it. They slipped into their easy routine of Crowley holding the door open and then waiting patiently on the sidewalk for Aziraphale to close it and lock up. This time, Aziraphale altered the routine by reaching for Crowley’s arm.

“May I?” He asked uncertainly.

“‘Course, angel.” Crowley nodded and offered up his elbow. “You don’t have to ask.”

“I don’t want to assume.”

“I don’t mind at all. It’s… nice…”

Aziraphale smiled understandingly as he linked his arm with Crowley’s as they started down the sidewalk. “All those years looking over our shoulders… it is nice to just feel… free.”

“Yes, it is.”

“It all just seems… brighter and happier this year. There’s so much more to feel. I’m just happy we can share it.”

“Me too, angel.” Crowley agreed, glad his voice sounded steady when those soft words had turned his insides to pudding.

The completely ridiculous feeling of sappiness and glee that Aziraphale felt something for him in return and wanted them to share time together didn’t fade as they made their way to the nearest Christmas tree lot. The Angel was immediately enraptured by the trees and went from row to row brushing fingers over boughs and cooing at how green and lovely they were. Crowley thought most of the specimens were not up to his standards, but he kept silent and trailed after Aziraphale.

The Angel spent some time examining every tree before he stopped at one, studying it appraisingly before nodding with satisfaction.

“I like this one.” He stated.

Crowley considered the tree. He gave it the look his plants knew to fear and was pleased when the tree gave a little shiver and stood just a little taller. “It’ll do.”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale chided. There was no anger in his voice, just a weary scolding like he knew it would go ignored.

“It knows what’s good for it. It’ll behave. I approve.”

“Care to do the honors?”

Crowley glanced around, checking that no one was paying attention to them, before snapping. The tree vanished and the cashbox at the front gained the payment plus a small tip. “All set and ready for its decor.”

“Lovely.” Aziraphale beamed. “To lunch then?”

“To lunch.”

The Angel linked his arm back around Crowley’s and they headed for the exit. As they left, Crowley noticed something else on a display shelf and on a whim used another, more subtle, miracle to add it to the bookshop as well--leaving payment and an extra fiver in the cashbox just because.

Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice, continuing to contemplate the options for lunch. “There’s the sushi restaurant or we could go to that sandwich place in the store. What are your thoughts, dear?”

“Whatever strikes your fancy, angel.”

“I want you to be happy too. I don’t want it all to revolve around me.”

“If you’re happy, I’m happy.” He glanced over to see Aziraphale didn’t look impressed by that answer. “I do like the pickles at the sandwich place.”

“Sandwiches it is, then.” The Angel nodded, looking pleased.

They were quiet on the walk toward the store and as they settled into a small table by the windows.

“It’s my treat.” Aziraphale stated. “I insist this time.”

“Alright. I won’t fight you on it.” Crowley leaned back in the chair. “Dealer’s choice. With extra pickles.”

“Very well.” 

Crowley watched him wander toward the counter to order before turning his attention out the window. Despite the bustle of the shoppers and the dreary day, he didn’t sense much in the way of frustration or anger. People weren’t upset by the crowds or the threat of snow--they were actually enjoying it.

“Christmas miracles…” He murmured to himself. He knew it’d be easy enough to throw some aggravation into the mix but found he had no real desire to. Some things even a Demon could allow around Christmas.

“What are you plotting?” Aziraphale asked as he returned to the table. It wasn’t a judgemental question, more like a tease.

“Nothing, for once.” Crowley looked at him. “Just watching the world go by.”

“I don’t appreciate it as much as I should. Humans really are remarkable at times. Destructive and perplexing, yes, but also quite wonderful. It is worth reflecting on every couple centuries.”

“We’ve all come a long way.”

“Yes, we have.”

Crowley had to look away from the fond smile. It was a smile so very tender and sweet that it almost made his teeth hurt. And how he loved it. He wanted to bask in the light of that smile but there was still a part of him that flinched away just a little, not really believing it was meant for him. So he watched the shoppers instead, trying not to notice the reflection of Aziraphale gazing at him. He was spared from some of his awkwardness as their food was brought to the table and Aziraphale made a pleased noise. Looking down at his food, he frowned a little.

“Egg salad?”

“To be honest, outside of coffee and alcohol I don’t really know what you like.” Aziraphale stated, somehow sounding annoyed about it. “You eat so little that it makes it difficult to pick for you. I wasn’t even aware you had a preference for pickles.”

Crowley picked up one of the pickle slices and ate it as he considered. “I’m not actually selective. Just don’t regard food the same way you do.”

“But what do you like?”

“Spicy. I like things that taste like something. I like flavors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Aziraphale sounded pleased, like he’d learned a deep secret.

Using his fork, Crowley speared some of the filling of his sandwich and tasted it. It was heavy on the mayo but not the worst thing ever. “Do you have a favorite?”

“Favorite?”

“Food? What’s your favorite?”

“Oh that’s an impossible question.” Aziraphale waved it off. “How could I pick?”

“But if you had to? Pick only one thing to eat for the rest of eternity?”

“I don’t like those questions. That’s the joy of Earth. We don’t have to settle on only one thing. There’s so many possibilities.”

Crowley’s humor faded. Perhaps it was the idea of settling but it flooded him with doubt. Would the Angel ever be happy with just him? Was that settling? Was he a jealous enough Demon to want the Angel to be only his?

“My dear, I didn’t mean that in relation to you.” Aziraphale said gently, as if sensing the distress his words had caused. “You are the greatest joy I’ve found on Earth. Spending time with you is never settling. There’s no one else I’d rather spend it with. I’m sorry I’ve ever given you reason to doubt that.”

“S’okay.”

“It’s obviously not.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it now. Can we just enjoy the day? Not dwell on other things?”

“Of course.” Aziraphale reached over and patted his hand. “Let’s finish our lunch and we can get to shopping. I look forward to decorating that lovely tree.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Crowley picked at the sandwich, eating some but he had no real interest in it. He did, however, eat his pickles as well as Aziraphale’s when they were offered. Lunch complete, albeit a little quietly, they migrated from the restaurant to the main of the store.

“This is exciting.” Aziraphale grinned. “I haven’t been shopping like this in a long time. Quite fun to do something new.”

“A lot can change in a century.” Crowley remarked.

“Are you commenting on my clothes?”

“What? Where did you get that from? I didn’t say anything about your clothes.”

“You were thinking it. You think I’m old fashioned.”

“Everyone thinks it. You are old fashioned, Aziraphale. You use the word ‘velocipede’.” Crowley held his hands up before the Angel could say anything. “None of that is meant as a criticism. It’s who you are. I wouldn’t dream of changing it.”

“Would you be opposed if I did?” Aziraphale asked, somewhat warily.

“Did what?”

“Changed things. Maybe updated my wardrobe a little? I am rather behind the times.”

“Whatever makes you happy. You know I like you in any form or fashion. Don’t do it because you think you have to. If you want to go shopping for new clothes, I’m happy to take you. But you are happy as is, that’s fine too.”

“I’ll consider it.”

Crowley watched him as they made their way toward the Christmas section. He had gotten used to the Angel wearing this particular outfit for the last century or so, but there was something intriguing about the idea of something new and modern. He realized that it had been some of the fun in seeing the Angel throughout time--to see what he was wearing in the fashion of the day. Some outfits were better than others. He still found himself thinking about those silver shoes in the Bastille from time to time.

“Do you think we should have a theme?” Aziraphale asked, drawing Crowley out of his ponderings.

“Wha?” He asked, fully admitting he hadn’t been paying attention.

“Our decorations. Should they have a theme? Red and gold or silver and green? I do like the look of white lights. What do you think?”

“I think we should put whatever we want on the tree. It’s ours. No one is allowed to judge it. Get whatever you want.” Crowley surveyed the expansive displays of ornaments and decoration. “Just none of those creepy elf things. Don’t like those.”

“I agree with you there, my dear.” Aziraphale replied with a laugh. “Let’s just see what strikes our fancy.”

Crowley made a noise of agreement and followed him into the forest of decorated trees, cringing a little at the glitter that threatened to cling to his jacket. He wasn’t sure who could be blamed for the existence of glitter--he suspected it had been a human creation--but he always found himself suitably impressed with its deviousness.

He was not remotely surprised when the first ornament Aziraphale seemed to be drawn to was something straight out of the Victorian era with little painted people in an idyllic winter scene. The Angel turned to him with a hopeful little smile.

“We’re going to need more than that to fill up the tree.” Crowley replied in answer.

“You’re right. We’ll need a basket.” With that, he handed Crowley the ornament and wandered off.

Crowley looked at the ornament now in his hand and then around at the glitter and plastic around him. With a shrug of resignation that he’d gotten himself into this situation and wasn’t getting back out anytime soon, he set off down the row, looking for anything that grabbed his attention. He hadn’t gone far when one tree did. The ornaments on display were all glass and as tastefully designed as you could hope for considering none of them had anything to do with Christmas. There were world landmark buildings and animals and vehicles, including a fire truck, police car, and the one that drew Crowley in, an old luxury car. It wasn’t quite a Bentley but it was close. He gingerly picked the car up and looked at it.

“What did you find?” Aziraphale asked, suddenly back at his side.

“I like this one.” He showed him the car.

“It is fitting. Not exactly a traditional decoration, though.”

“We’re not exactly traditional, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled brightly. “You are correct. Here, add it to the basket.” He offered out a shopping basket. “Let’s find some more.”

Crowley placed both ornaments carefully in the basket and watched Aziraphale wander onto the next tree. Sensing a gaze, he turned to find a young woman nearby, smiling fondly at him.

“First Christmas together?” She asked when she saw his attention turn to her.

“Umm… properly, yeah.” He replied somewhat lamely. 

“Congrats. Enjoy it.” With a smile, she turned and walked away, turning to disappear behind a large tree.

“Thanks…” Crowley mumbled. He wasn’t sure why he felt flustered. It certainly wasn’t the first time humans had assumed they were a couple. At least it was mostly accurate now. Shaking it off, he hurried to rejoin Aziraphale, noticing several more ornaments had been added to the basket.

He looked at the next tree, a grin spread as he saw just the right ornament. He plucked it up in his fingers and returned to the Angel, crowding his personal space just a little.  
“How about this one?” He showed off the lovely glass apple.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Always the tempter, aren’t you, dear?”

“Am I?”

“Yes. Always.” A slight flush colored the Angel’s cheeks, which was rather endearing. “Well, if we’re going to get that one, it seems only right this one goes on the tree as well.” He offered out an ornament of a curled up black snake with a bow on its head.

“Are you mocking me, angel?” Crowley teased.

“Of course not. I just think it’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“I’ve always been quite partial to snakes.” The flush on his cheeks darkened. “If you don’t like it, I’ll put it back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I think he needs a very special spot on the tree. Good to know you’ve got a thing for reptiles.” He flicked a very snakey tongue toward the Angel before turning away.

“Crowley!” The tone was a mix of scolding and laughter. “Behave.”

“Never.”

Aziraphale trailed after him. “We’re in public.”

Crowley glanced at him, still grinning. “Exactly. That makes it more fun.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I should hope so.”

There was a brief silence before Aziraphale spoke again, tone soft and almost conspiratorial. “For the record, it’s not all reptiles. I am very particular.”

Crowley nearly tripped on his own feet as he stopped abruptly. He looked to the Angel, who smiled back at him with near angelic innocence. “What?”

“I don’t think that statement needs any explanation. Come on, dear, we have a lot more shopping to do.”

Crowley gaped at him for a moment before following along again. His anxiety got the better of him now and then, but this, this he loved. He loved that they could be playful and tease and flirt. This was what he’d always wanted. To just know deep down that they cared for each other, that they loved each other, and they could show it in so many ways without ever saying the precise words. 

He settled into a sense of calm as they continued their shopping. He was happy. This was somewhat new and he reveled in it. He enjoyed their light banter as they picked out more ornaments, he loved the look Aziraphale gave him when he picked out a set of silver stars for the tree--all fond and knowing--and he leaned into every small touch and nudge as they walked side by side back to the bookshop with bags full of their purchases.

Once back in the shop, Aziraphale opened a good bottle of wine before they got to decorating the tree with the hodgepodge of ornaments they’d bought. By the time they were done, three wine bottles had been emptied and the tree was nearly full.

Crowley flopped onto the couch and eyed the tree. “It’s not bad.”

“I think it’s lovely.” Aziraphale nodded with satisfaction from where he stood next to it.

“Same thing.”

“It certainly reflects us both. It’s a nice balance. It’s a good tree.”

“Don’t say things like that where it can hear you. You’ll give it ideas.”

“Don’t torment the Christmas tree, Crowley.”

Crowley wrinkled his nose. “‘Don’t torment the Christmas tree’.” He mocked back in his horrible impersonation of Aziraphale. “You’re no fun.” 

“I’m aware.” Aziraphale replied mildly. “More wine?”

“Yes. Always yes.”

“Be right back.”

Crowley watched him shuffle off toward the backroom and then turned his attention back to the tree. It really wasn’t bad. Given some of the things they’d picked out, it could have been a tacky mess, but it actually looked quite good now that they were done. He was a little proud of it. It was theirs. He wasn’t sure he’d ever said that before. It made him feel a little warmer and happier. He settled deeper into the couch and sighed contently.

He didn’t hear Aziraphale return and started just a little as the Angel’s voice came from just out of his line of sight.

“Crowley?”

Crowley tipped his head back to find Aziraphale right next to the couch. He couldn’t quite read his expression. “That’s me.”

“Sober up for me, dear?”

“Something wrong?”

“Please.” It wasn’t quite an order but it also wasn’t a question.

All good feelings and comfort vanished as Crowley complied and expelled the wine from his system. Fully sober, he felt that creep of anxiety and fear in his stomach that he had thought he’d finally escaped from. 

“Come here.” Aziraphale offered out a hand and helped pull Crowley up from the couch. He kept a hold of his hand as he guided them over to the next room, pausing just short of the doorway. “Your addition?” He nodded upwards.

Crowley glanced up to see the mistletoe he’d gotten at the tree lot. It looked quite cheery with its green leaves and red ribbon. “Gotta love the humans. Only they would take a parasitic plant and hang it in their houses for the holidays.”

“Crowley…” The tone wasn’t scolding but it suggested that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “Is that what you were doing at the tree lot?”

“It was a whim. If you don’t like it, I’ll get rid of it.”

Aziraphale took his other hand as he raised it to send the plant away. “I didn’t say that. Please stop jumping to the worst-case scenario.”

“That’s kinda what I do.” He mumbled. He wished he had his glasses on. He couldn’t meet the soft grey gaze that was fixed on his face. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.” Aziraphale held both of his hands and brought them up between them, brushing the lightest of kisses over his knuckles. “You put a plant that humans kiss under in my shop. That suggests something. Do you want me to kiss you?”

Crowley’s brain was short circuiting between the contact of Aziraphale’s lips on his hand and the question. He stood wordless for a moment trying to find his voice. “Do you want to kiss me? If you don’t, it’s fine. It was a joke, a whim. I--”

He was silenced by a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s voice was so gentle, so sweet. “Stop fretting, dear. I want to kiss you. Very much. Is that alright with you?”

“Yes. God yes.”

“Language, dearest.”

“I think She’d approve.”

Aziraphale laughed as he guided Crowley the few steps over to place them under the mistletoe. His hands released Crowley’s and went to his cheeks, touch light and reverent. He had to raise himself up just a little to meet his lips in a sweet, tender kiss.

Crowley whined just a little as it was over far too soon. He wanted to grab Aziraphale and pull him even closer. It was just a taste and he wanted so much more. “Angel.”

“It’s alright, darling.” He cooed, peppering his lips and nose with little kisses. “I’m not going anywhere. We have all the time in the world.”

“I know.” Crowley relaxed a little. He reached up to run a hand through the soft blond curls. “So many years, Aziraphale. I’ve wanted to kiss you for so many years. May I?”

“Of course. Whenever you want.”

Crowley didn’t hesitate to lean in and kiss him solidly. He rested his hand on the back of Aziraphale’s head as he brought the other up to his chest. He pressed closer as he explored the Angel’s lips. It was a generally chaste kiss but there was great emotion behind it. He was glad he didn’t have to break away to breathe but he came out of it breathless anyway. He pressed his forehead to the Angel’s, eyes closed as he tried to compose himself and not just continue to kiss him eagerly.

“Okay?” He whispered.

“Very much.” Aziraphale slid one of his hands from Crowley’s cheek to his hair, running his fingers through it. “Wonderful. Are you alright, darling?”

“Never better.”

“For the record, you didn’t need mistletoe to ask for a kiss.”

“I couldn’t ask.” Crowley stated. “You know why I couldn’t.”

“I do and I’m sorry for that. But no longer, alright? I want you to tell me everything.”

“I don’t want to go too fast.” He hated the way his voice broke at those words. 

“You won’t. I’m right here with you. Okay? We’re on our side. Whatever speed we want to go. I’m not going anywhere. Come here, dear one.” He guided Crowley into a hug, holding him firmly. “I’m sorry for all the doubt and hurt I’ve caused you. I know it’ll take some time to heal those mistakes. I hope you can forgive me one day.”

“Always, angel. I forgive you.” Crowley tucked his face into Aziraphale’s neck, breathing in his scent. 

Aziraphale tenderly rubbed his back, nuzzled kisses into his hair. They stayed like that for several minutes, just pressed close and breathing slowly. It was the Angel that finally guided them apart and back over to the couch. He settled in first, pulling Crowley down to rest against him. A soft and heavy blanket fell over their shoulders as Aziraphale tucked an arm around Crowley.

“This okay?” He asked.

“Cozy.” Crowley murmured, setting his head on the Angel’s shoulder. He gazed at the tree through half-lidded eyes. “Angel?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I could get used to this.”

Aziraphale chuckled fondly as he kissed the Demon’s hair. “As could I. I think it’s going to be a lovely winter.”

Crowley tucked closer, feeling safe and content. The Angel was solid and soft against his body and he loved the warmth of where they pressed together. All the tension and worries slipped away from him. He drifted off into a peaceful sleep with the sight of the glass angel looking down at them from atop the tree while his Angel whispered soft reassurance against his hair.

Maybe winter really wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
